Testament to Murder
by boswifedeb
Summary: While getting ready to put livestock back on the Texas ranch, Matt is called in to help to help the Houston, TX Police Department with what one of their detectives believes is a serial killer whose trail of terror has extended across several states. Rated T for subject matter and violence. Not my characters. **Immediately follows "Friend or Foe"**
1. Chapter 1

**Testament to Murder**

****This story immediately follows "Friend or Foe?"****

**CHAPTER 1**

"Mrs. Parsons-Houston?" The nurse smiled at CJ and Matt as they headed back for the ultrasound. CJ was seventeen weeks pregnant with their first child. They had teased each other about the sex of the baby ever since CJ found out she was pregnant. As they walked down the hall, CJ flashed a smile at her husband. "Boy."

"Nope – girl." Matt was smiling broadly.

She shook her head. "A mother knows, Matt."

"Okay CJ, have a seat up here on the table and Marsha will be with you in just a minute." The nurse closed the door behind her as she left. Matt helped his wife step up and get on the table, giving her a kiss. "I love you, babe." He rubbed her cheek.

"Love you, too, hon. I can't wait to see this little guy." She patted on her belly.

"Little lady, you mean." Matt wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for another kiss.

The technician walked in the door. "Okay you two, that's enough." She smiled at the couple. Matt blushed and CJ giggled. He stepped toward the right side of the table to be out of the technician's way.

"Alright, are you comfortable?" Marsha pulled a swiveling stool over to the side of the table and began inputting CJ's information into the machine. "I'll need you push your pants down over your belly so we can get a good picture of the little one." She finished typing and reached for a tube of gel. "You're lucky – it's had time to warm up this morning." The technician squirted the gel onto CJ's baby bump and rolled the ultrasound transducer around, spreading the gel.

Matt found himself holding his breath and reached over and squeezed CJ's hand. She squeezed back. There on the screen was their baby. All Matt could say was, "Wow!"

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Marsha never got tired of this part of the job. She took a few still shots of the baby, then started making the measurements.

"How's he doing in there?" CJ was so amazed she couldn't take her eyes off of the screen.

"Right on target. It looks like this little one will be arriving in June." She smiled over at the couple.

CJ kept trying to see if it was a boy or girl but it was too hard to make out. "Can you tell if it's a boy?"

The technician kept trying to get the baby to turn so that they could see, but it kept turning its back to them.

"I can't believe this kid is mooning me before she's even born!" Matt was laughing. "Guess she's high spirited like her mama." He squeezed CJ's hand again.

"No Matt, I'm telling you it's a boy." She squeezed his hand and as the technician turned off the machine, CJ looked at her husband who was wearing the biggest smile on his face that she had ever seen. He stood up and kissed her.

"Love you, babe."

"Love you, too. But I still say it's a boy."

The technician laughed and handed CJ some tissues to wipe the gel off of her belly. "Okay, you're all set. And here you go." She handed over a strip of pictures of the baby and a DVD. "Time to show off your baby."

They thanked her, then headed back down the hall and out into the lobby of the doctor's building. "I'll pick you up out front." Matt pulled the keys from his pocket.

"No, I'll walk. I need the exercise." CJ took him by the arm and they headed back out to the truck.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

The drifter stood under the overhang of the barn's side shed, trying to stay dry. It rained more here on the Gulf Coast of Texas than in Amarillo. He had become accustomed to the weather there, almost liking it. But it had been time to move again and this was the furthest that he had been able to hitch a ride. It was too bad about the man that had picked him up and brought him this far – he had been a nice guy. But that was one of the downsides to picking up hitch hikers – you never knew who you were likely to meet. Because he liked the man, he made sure that his death was quick and almost painless. He had slit his throat as he sat behind the wheel of his car at the truck stop along I-45 just north of Houston. That had been at 3:00 am. It was just after 7:00 am now, and the drifter had walked a good ways in the last four hours, although not at a fast pace. That would invite questions. He had learned over the past few years how to avoid detection, becoming almost invisible when the need arose. It was best to blend in with the people around you.

Now that he was almost in a target rich area, it was time to start planning his next series of murders. The man he had ridden with didn't count as one of his normal victims; his death was just part of what the drifter liked to classify as traveling expenses. If he liked the people that he hitched with, and he usually did, he would kill them just like he killed the last man. But if for some reason he didn't like them death would not come easy to them. There had only been three over the last four years that he handled like that.

The rain had slowed down to a fine mist and the drifter started walking again. It wouldn't be long before he was into the city limits. He liked walking; it gave him time to think and plan just how the next group of victims would die. First he needed a new name. He drew his names from an unlikely pool: the twelve Disciples of Christ. In Amarillo he had called himself Simon, so now it was time to become Thaddeus. Thaddeus was the nick name that Jesus had given to Judas, the son of James. The name Thad would work just fine for him as it had a few months ago in Odessa. He shifted his backpack to his left shoulder and headed back out onto the road, putting his legs on auto-pilot, and his brain into high gear planning the demise of his next group of victims.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

"Okay Brian, you passed your quiz. Ready to take over for a little while?" Matt already knew the answer to the question.

"You know I am." The thirteen year old boy had been in Matt and CJ's temporary custody for a little over two weeks since appearing in the Houston's barn on the ranch in Texas. He had been homeless for a month after his mom went missing after going to buy drugs. Matt had managed to find his mom, whom he was now putting through a rehab program.

Brian took the yoke of the plane and did exactly what Matt had taught him. He had always had an interest in flying and Matt was a patient teacher. Although he was looking forward to being reunited with his mom, he knew he was going to miss living with the Houston's. "I kind of thought we would be staying in LA longer."

"We promised your mom we wouldn't keep you away for too long." Matt was hoping that the counseling that the boy's mother was getting at the rehab facility would do the trick. He knew that it often took more than one stint in rehab to get people straightened out. After letting the boy fly for about half an hour he took back the controls.

Matt had his mind on more than just Brian's mom and her rehab. He was about to begin buying stock for the ranch in Texas. After doing some research, he had decided to go with Brahman bulls and Gelbvieh cows. A bull by the name of Reaper was his top pick and another called Jonas was his second. They both came from strong bloodlines and Matt thought they would work out just fine.

After the three hour flight back to Texas, Matt was ready to kick back and relax for the rest of the day. Tomorrow he planned on getting the bulls and then he would begin getting the cows the next day. As they stepped off of the jet, Marty Hoffmann was there to pick them up. Marty and his brother Pat, along with Ollie Burckhardt were Matt's new hands on the ranch. He was happy to have landed such an impressive crew.

"How'd it go?" Marty helped Matt and Brian with loading the luggage in the back of the truck.

"Real good." Matt pulled out the picture from the ultrasound that he had been carrying in his shirt pocket – and had been showing it to everyone he could.

"Yep, looks like a baby. 'Course it also kind of looks like an alien. Whose side of the family does that run on?" The cowboy was sure that would get a reaction.

"CJ's side of course." Matt didn't miss a beat. He opened the door on the truck for his wife and then slid into the seat next to her. "Any problems while we were gone?"

"Nope, not a one. Unless you count Pat's bad luck at poker." He grinned as he dropped the truck into gear and pulled off from the hangar. "Everything's gone smooth as a baby's butt – if you'll pardon the expression." They all laughed as the cowboy pointed the truck in the direction of the ranch.

Later that evening Matt and CJ were curled up together in the recliner in the den of the spacious Texas home that Matt had grown up in. CJ looked over at her husband who was starting to doze off. "Guess that's the old age catching up with you."

Matt opened one eye and looked at her. "It's got nothing to do with old age: I'm thinking, that's all." He closed his eye.

"Do you usually snore when you think?" She was playing with the hair on his temple.

"Only when it's absolutely necessary." He grinned and she leaned over to give him a kiss as the local late news began.

"Good evening. Tonight's lead story: A local man, Charles Rainey, was found murdered in his car this morning at the Johnson Springs Truck Stop just off of I-45. Rainey, age 52, was found with his throat cut. Surveillance pictures from the truck stop show what appears to be a man exiting the vehicle around 3:00 am. The suspect was seen wearing a black t-shirt and black baseball cap which was pulled low over his eyes. If you have any information about this crime…" Matt's eyes had opened at the first mention of murder.

"Charles Rainey. Why does that name sound familiar?" CJ was racking her brain.

"That's not Jimmy's dad is it?" Matt couldn't remember. He and CJ had gone to school with Jimmy Rainey.

"I believe that's him." The phone rang and CJ reached across Matt to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Hi CJ, it's Chuck. I was wondering if you two had made it back. How did it go?" Chuck Wylie was another friend of the Houstons who happened to be a deputy with the Harris County Sheriff's Department.

"It was great. We now have pictures and a DVD of what Marty says may either be a baby or an alien."

Chuck cracked up. "Yeah, well at that stage they could pass for either one. Is Houston there with you?"

"Yeah, hang on a second." She handed the phone to Matt. "Chuck."

"Hey bud, what's up?" Matt and Chuck had been friends since the age of five.

"Have you been watching the news by any chance?"

"Yeah, are you talking about the guy who got his throat cut? Was that Jimmy Rainey's dad? We were just wondering about that."

"Yep, it sure was. Terrible thing. They think it was a hitch hiker. He's always had a bad habit of picking folks up on the road. He was coming back from his uncle's place up in Amarillo."

"That's rough." Matt was holding the phone so that CJ could hear the conversation. She nodded her head.

"Well, a friend of mine who works Homicide was wondering if you would mind taking a look at the evidence tomorrow, if you can."

Matt was somewhat surprised. "Oh, uh, yeah I guess so. Where did that come from?"

Chuck laughed and said, "You kind of have a reputation you know, especially after you found Lisa Landers." Lisa Landers was Brian's mom.

"Uh Chuck, I had a lot of help on that from Mark Lyons. He should be getting the credit for that."

"Yeah well, a lot of folks have heard about your work out there in Hollyweird."

"Gee, I wonder how they heard about that, Chuck." Matt figured Chuck had been telling folks about some of the cases that he and Matt had talked about while the deputy had been helping him repair the fences around the ranch.

"I have no idea." He almost managed to get it out without laughing. "Plus, you're a licensed PI in the state of Texas you know."

"Yeah, I seem to recall that." He looked at CJ who nodded. "Okay, the boss here says it's alright so I guess I can. When and where?"

"I'll let you and Michael Littlebear work that out." He gave Matt the phone number of the Homicide investigator and told him goodnight.

Matt dialed the number. "Hi, Det. Littlebear? This is Matt Houston. Chuck Wylie just called me and told me you wanted to talk to me?" He listened as the detective gave him the rundown on what they knew so far and the pair set up a time and place to meet. After promising that he would be there at 8:30, Matt hung up and looked at CJ.

"I was planning on taking time off while you're expecting this little lady." He patted her belly.

"It sounds like they could use some help, Matt." She leaned over and kissed him. "And I'm just fine, so don't worry about me – and your son."

"Guess I better see if Marty will go ahead and get those bulls without me tomorrow." He picked the phone back up and called down to the bunkhouse. "Hey Pat, is Marty around there?" He waited while the cowboy picked up. "Hey bud, I've got to go meet with a homicide detective in the morning. Do you think you boys can go get those bulls without me?"

"Sure, no problem. You and Jock Napier already settled on the prices, right?"

"Yeah, I'll make out a check and you can pick it up in the morning before you go. I appreciate it."

"Are you gonna talk to the detective about Charlie Rainey?" Marty had heard a few stories about Matt's work as a private investigator and was impressed.

"Yeah, CJ and I went to school with his son Jimmy. Pretty sad end." He thanked Marty and hung up. Looking over at his wife, Matt began running his fingers through her hair and kissed her. "Well, I guess this old man better get some sleep so that he doesn't doze off in the middle of an investigation tomorrow." He kissed her again, a long lingering kiss that left no doubt that he wasn't planning on sleeping anytime real soon.

CJ pulled back from him. "I guess I better make sure you get tucked in for the night." She returned his kiss. Matt returned the recliner to its upright position and the pair walked hand in hand up the stairs to their bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Thad, as he was now calling himself, had checked into a hostel near downtown Houston. He had learned early on in his "career" as he referred to it that hostels were an inexpensive alternative to hotels, and since his income came from his victims, he was rarely flush with cash. After stashing his backpack in a locker, Thad decided to explore the area. As he drifted down the streets of his new home, he started picking out places that he could use for his job. A dead end alley and a deserted warehouse were two of the first that he found.

He had decided earlier in the day on his walk into the city that his Houston victims would be strangled. Thad found that strangling a victim gave him a feeling of satisfaction that stabbing or poisoning just didn't give him. In an effort to maintain his freedom, he always changed methods of killing his victims just like he changed his name in every town. The last piece of the puzzle was always his favorite: choosing his victims. Sometimes he chose to only kill women, other times men. Sometimes they were young, other times old. He had a lot of classifications that he used. One time in San Angelo he had only killed red heads. That had proved to be more trouble than it was worth and he had decided not to go that route again.

Thad had been thinking about it for quite a while when he stopped at a park to rest for a few minutes. He noticed a man half sitting and half lying on a picnic table nearby, a whiskey bottle in a brown bag in his hand. The drunk was the inspiration that Thad had been waiting for and helped him decide who his victims in Houston would be: drunks. He smiled as he thought to himself that in all actuality he would be performing a public service by keeping drunks off the roads. The only downside to choosing them as his victims was that they rarely had a lot of cash. Fortunately for him, the man he had killed that morning had been carrying $1200 in cash on him. It was a very nice payday; the best that the drifter had had in quite a while. Yes, he decided, it was definitely the right time to hit drunks.

He walked back toward the hostel and decided that he would start his new job that night. There were several bars within a three block radius. Thad would go back to his room and collect the piece of rope that he kept in his backpack, then have dinner, and go check out the bars for a victim. As he reached the front steps of the hostel, the drifter stopped to enjoy the sunset, knowing that by the time the sun rose again, there would be one less living person on the earth.

After a steak dinner, Thad walked to the closest bar. He ordered a drink and started the process of deciding which drunk would be his victim. Very quickly, he had cut the candidates down to three: two men and a woman. Of the three, the woman was the drunkest. He approached her, feeding her a line about having a brand new bottle of tequila in his apartment. It didn't take much to convince her to leave with him. As they walked along toward the alley that he had picked out earlier he reached into his pocket and put his fingers on the length of rope that he would be using shortly. She was so drunk he was having to half-carry her. When they reached the alley he quickly looked around to see if there was anyone watching him, and when he decided it was safe he walked his victim into the alley where he pushed her face into a brick wall, put the rope around her neck, and did his public service.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Matt met with Detective Michael Littlebear at 8:30 the next morning at the Johnson Springs Truck Stop where the murder had occurred. On the way there, he was wondering why the detective wanted him to consult on the case: it appeared to be a random crime, or at least that was the impression that he had gotten from the story on the news last night. He pulled up to the truck stop and saw the yellow crime scene tape that was still fluttering in the breeze. Getting out of his truck, he looked up at the sky that had turned dark gray. The humidity level had shot up and it would probably start raining soon.

"Good thing the CSI's got their evidence yesterday morning." Detective Littlebear smiled at Matt as he walked over to the scene. The two men shook hands. "Chuck Wylie told me that you might be the very man to help me out here."

"Well I hope so." Matt ducked under the tape that Littlebear was holding up for him.

"I guess you're wondering why I wanted some more help on this." The homicide detective gave Matt a sideways glance.

"The thought did cross my mind."

"Before I transferred to the Houston PD I worked for the sheriff's department in Lubbock and in San Antonio before that. As I'm sure you know, not all murders get solved. And we've had a lot in the state the last few years that unfortunately fall into that category. What got my attention yesterday were the similarities between the murder of Mr. Rainey and of some other victims that I've seen. Now granted, slitting someone's throat is not a new way to murder, but during the time that I was in Lubbock there was a case very similar to this. A man found murdered in a truck stop parking lot just outside of town in the early morning hours, throat slit, no money on the body, and one of these in the car." He pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket and there was a New Testament Bible, one of the small ones that measured about six inches by three inches.

"And that wasn't in the news report last night." Matt took the bag from Littlebear and looked at the Bible, then handed it back.

"We've collected a fingerprint from the inside of this one – one that the killer obviously wanted us to find." He put the bag back into his pocket and pulled out his phone, showing Matt a picture of what appeared to be a finger print, but instead of the usual swirls and ridges, there was a cross.

"Uh huh, well that's certainly different." Matt handed the phone back.

"And the CSI's tell us that the print isn't upside down – the cross is." Littlebear put his phone back in his shirt pocket.

"Well from what I know that could mean a couple of different things. The inverted cross is also known as the Cross of St. Peter who was crucified upside down. It's sometimes used by the Pope. But it's also used by some satanic groups."

"Exactly. Chuck told me you were good." He smiled at Matt. "Now we have collected what appears to be that same print over twenty three times – between Lubbock, San Antonio, Amarillo, and now here. I've sent out a query to other departments across the state. Three have gotten back to me so far – and all three have collected the same print."

"So it looks like we're talking about a serial killer." Matt shook his head. "People absolutely amaze me."

"I'm glad they amaze you – they depress the hell out of me." Littlebear smirked, then became serious. "We haven't released the information about the print."

"Because you don't want a copycat or a false confession from a nutjob." Matt nodded.

"Mr. Houston, I've got case files on the way from San Antonio, Lubbock, and Amarillo. Do you think you could take a look through them and see if you can shed a little light on this case?"

"On one condition: quit calling me Mr. Houston. Most folks just call me Houston. Deal?" He held out his hand.

"Deal." Littlebear shook it. "Just call me Michael."

"Oh boy, another Michael. I work with a homicide lieutenant in LA named Michael Hoyt." Houston laughed as they stepped out from under the crime scene tape.

The police detective turned and looked at it. "There really isn't anything left here evidence-wise – don't guess there's much point in leaving this up." He stood and looked at it for a minute. "What the heck." He turned and walked back toward his SUV.

"You know my wife and I went to school with Rainey's son, Jimmy." Matt walked along beside Littlebear with his hands in his pockets.

"I haven't talked to him yet but that was on my list for this morning. How about we go together?"

"Alright. Do you have his address? I haven't seen or talked to him since…" He thought about it. "Damn, I feel old all of the sudden."

Littlebear burst into laughter. "I know the feeling. I've got it. Do you want to follow me over there?"

"Yeah, that'll work." He got into his truck and the pair took off for the Rainey home.

The house of Jimmy and Carla Rainey was in a suburban area of Houston. When Littlebear knocked on the door, a tired looking Jimmy Rainey answered it. He looked up and saw Matt. "Houston, is that you under all that scrub?" He held out his hand and the two shook.

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry about your dad, Jimmy." They followed the man inside to the living room and had a seat on the couch. "This is Michael Littlebear, a homicide detective with HPD." Jimmy leaned forward and shook the man's hand.

"No offense Houston, but what are you doing here?"

"Houston is a private investigator, Mr. Rainey, and I called him in to help me on your dad's case. There have been some similar murders and we were hoping he might be able to help us out." Littlebear leaned forward.

"You, a private eye?" Jimmy laughed. "I thought you worked for your dad in the oil business."

"I did for a while, then I moved to California and started my own business, and then opened the detective agency."

"Pretty impressive. Say, what ever happened to CJ?"

Matt grinned and pulled the ultrasound picture out of his pocket and handed it across to Jimmy. "She's about four months along with our first baby."

Rainey laughed. "I always knew there was something going on with you two. Congratulations." He handed the picture back. "What can I do to help with the investigation?"

"I remember your dad used to pick up hitch hikers when we were in school. Did he still do that?" Matt put the picture back in his pocket.

"Unfortunately, yes. We, Carla and me, were always telling him not to do it. But Dad always felt sorry for folks who were out walking down the highway."

Littlebear picked up the conversation. "We believe that it was a hitchhiker that murdered your father." He pulled out a picture taken from the surveillance video from the truck stop. "Do you know this man?"

"No, we saw that on the news last night. I've never seen him before." He stared at the picture and tears came to his eyes. "Dad deserved better than this. He was always trying to help people. I'm just glad Mom passed away two years ago – this would have killed her for sure." Carla Rainey walked in then and went to her husband, pulling him into a hug. After he composed himself, Jimmy introduced the two detectives.

"I sure hope you can find out who did this. Charlie was a good man." She was obviously upset as well.

"I heard that he was on the way back from his uncle's house in Amarillo, is that right?" Matt had taken out his notebook.

"Yeah, Uncle Miles has been in pretty bad shape for the last few months. Dad wanted to go see him – said it might be his last chance."

Matt and Michael exchanged a glance. "Do you know if he was carrying a lot of cash on him?"

"Dad hated ATM's. He said if he had to pay a service charge to the bank that he was going to make them earn it instead of a computer." Jimmy smiled again. "He hated computers. Said they would be the downfall of the world."

"Do you have any idea how much he might have been carrying?" Matt was pretty sure that it was a good sized chunk.

"I took him to the bank the other day when we were out and he withdrew $1400. With buying gas for the trip and all, I'd say he probably still had at least $1200."

Matt wrote that down and looked over at Littlebear who shrugged and said, "Alright Mr. Rainey, we appreciate your time. Here's my card," he handed one over to Jimmy, "if you think of anything else give me a call."

Houston handed over one of his cards with the ranch number on the back. "Same here. If I'm not there just leave a message." They shook hands again.

"Give CJ my best would you? And congratulations again."

The two detectives walked outside. "I'll follow you to the office." Matt climbed into his truck and was thinking about the details of the case as he headed to the police department. After arriving and receiving a visitor's pass, Matt and Littlebear grabbed some coffee and went to the homicide squad room. By the time they got there, the files from Amarillo and San Antonio had already arrived. Littlebear checked his email and found the file from Lubbock there. He printed it out and put it on the stack that was now starting to accumulate on his desk. Matt was kicked back in a chair reading the file from Amarillo while the police detective returned several phone calls concerning his inquiries. When he hung up the phone for the last time he sighed.

"Alright, I've got information on the way from Odessa, Austin, and Waco and I'm expecting calls from Dallas and Ft. Worth."

Matt nodded. "There are definitely certain similarities between the cases, namely the Bibles and the fingerprint." He stood up and stretched. "The other murders that included those two signatures were different though; the victims in Amarillo were poisoned. And I also noticed that they were all women."

Littlebear nodded. "Now take a look at the San Antonio file." He handed it across to Matt who plopped back down in the chair and propped his feet on the desk that he was sitting at, then pulled them back down.

"Guess I shouldn't do that to someone else's desk, huh?"

The detective shook his head. "Detective Sherrill won't be using it anymore – he died in a car wreck last month. And don't worry," Michael smiled, "he did that all the time, too."

"Well, I guess I'll keep up the tradition, then." Matt put his feet back up and started reading again. When he was finished he looked over at Littlebear who had just finished reading the information from Lubbock and looked at his watch.

"I could sure go for some lunch. You?"

Matt nodded. The pair got up and walked outside and across the street to a Mexican restaurant. "Man this is handy." Matt grinned. Once inside, Littlebear ordered the taco platter and Matt did the same. They began discussing the similarities and differences of the files that they had just read.

Matt took a swallow of tea and started loading down his second taco with hot sauce. "The San Antonio file was interesting reading. The murders had the Bible and thumbprint deals, but the victims were all men – five of them - and they were killed with the old traditional blunt object. Except for the truck stop guy – his throat was slit."

Littlebear crunched a bite of taco and nodded. "Now you see why I asked for your help?"

"Yep. What about Lubbock?"

"Well the truck stop victim," he took a swallow of tea, "was strangled, but there was the Bible and fingerprint. And the other victims there were all known drug dealers – male – six of 'em. Stabbed in the chest."

"This guy is getting around a lot – pretty much all over the state." Matt thought about that as he crunched on a taco. "But the murders were on various days of the week, one a day for about five to seven days." He thought for a minute. "That doesn't really sound like someone who's on a schedule. I mean a truck driver is usually on the road for so many days – but not in the same city. See what I mean?"

Littlebear nodded. "I think the guy is a drifter. And we're pretty sure he hitched a ride with Rainey."

Matt agreed. "I think that's how he gets from town to town – and then kills whoever he rode with – usually by strangling them."

Michael's phone rang. "Yeah, Cherie, whatcha got?" He looked at Matt. "Okay, we'll be right there. NO! Don't let anybody do anything until we get there, hear me?" He hung up as Matt threw some money on the table and the two headed out, Matt riding shotgun in Littlebear's SUV. They pulled up to the scene a few miles away in a dead end alley. As they walked under the crime scene tape the cop flashed his badge and indicated that Matt was with him. They walked to the end of the alley and there lay a woman, apparently strangled according to the marks on her neck. On her chest was a small Bible. Matt pulled a pen out of his pocket and flipped the front cover open – and saw the fingerprint with the upside down cross.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Thad was watching the afternoon news on the television in the common room of the hostel. His public service that he had performed last night had been found. It had been an extremely easy job: the woman had been so drunk she could barely stand and she was unconscious in just a matter of seconds. The next story was about the man who had driven him to Houston. Two of his jobs in one newscast – he felt a great sense of accomplishment.

The drifter stood up and stretched. He had been lazy all day, reveling in the fact that his job had gone well the night before, but now it was time to get back to work. He walked in the opposite direction of the bar where he had picked up the woman last night – no sense in being seen in the same place twice. They had shown the picture of the police detective on TV – and Thad laughed when he heard that they had called in some private eye to help with the case. The cops in Houston must have been even worse off than the ones in the other parts of the state that he had visited.

As he casually strolled down the street he was thinking about where he should go next. He had spent a good deal of time in Texas, but he was thinking of moving to another state. Someplace down south would work – it would be getting colder up north and he really didn't like cold weather. Maybe he would travel east, visiting Louisiana, then Mississippi, and maybe Georgia.

Thad came across another bar, this one a slight step up from the hole that he had visited the night before. He wondered if he would find a higher class of drunk here. Wandering in the front door he walked to the bar and ordered a beer then paid the bartender and found a seat at a table in the back. There was a band playing and they weren't half bad. Thad hadn't been allowed to listen to rock music when he was growing up. His mother had insisted that all music aside from gospel was the music of Satan himself. Not until his dearly beloved mother was dead did he get to hear the guitar riffs and frenzied drumming of rock and roll. He liked it. Wouldn't his mother be disappointed? He laughed to himself. Dear old Mother had been his first victim. Thad had strangled her after she had beaten him one too many times. He had asked a girl from school out on a date and when he told Mother she had flown into a tizzy, beating him relentlessly with the studded belt that she kept for just that purpose. He still had the scars to show for it, after seventeen years of her abuse.

There was a disturbance on the other side of the room as two men – both obviously drunk – got into a fight. One was considerably bigger than the other and was whaling on the smaller man. The bouncer threw both of them out into the street. Thad looked outside as the door was opened. It was still too light out there. He preferred to work when it was completely dark so he decided to let the two men off the hook. Another victim would present himself, he was sure of that.

As he nursed the beer, Thad thought back to his second victim: the girl that he had asked out on the date. It was her fault that he had been beaten and had to kill his mother. If she hadn't smiled at him, it never would have happened in the first place. It was on her body that he had left the first testament. He had decided a week after that to change his fingerprint. With a little sulfuric acid, he had gotten rid of his original left thumbprint and after it had healed, he used the acid to make the upside down cross – a sign of Satan – to use as his signature. His mother had constantly called him a child of Satan, so it seemed only fitting.

A couple of hours later his victim presented himself: a large, red-faced man who smelled like a brewery was kicked out of the bar after he ran out of money. Thad followed him out and offered to take him to a keg party that was being held in a deserted warehouse. The drunk had fallen for it and even thanked him, telling him what a lifesaver he was. He had been slightly harder to kill than his previous victim, but it was a job well done and he was proud of himself. Thad left the testament on the chest of the drunk, proudly using his thumbprint signature.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Matt made it back home about 6:00 that night. He and Michael Littlebear, along with the crime scene investigators, had scoured the alley and checked to see if any of the nearby businesses had video surveillance. None of them did, and they were left with nothing but the Bible and fingerprint, aside from the body of Patricia Coleman. They did some research on her and came back with the outline of a wasted life – literally. Coleman had been arrested over seventy times on charges of drunk and disorderly, assault, and bad checks. Off and on she had spent over half of her 41 years in jail, and had been on the streets for the last week after being evicted from her apartment.

Coming in the back door of the house, Matt was met in the kitchen by Madre Rosa, the housekeeper who had pretty well raised him. He gave her a kiss on the cheek as she brought him a bowl of chili. CJ came in and sat down to talk to him while he ate his dinner. He started telling her about the case, but clammed up when Brian came in the room. "How's the school work going?" He had arranged for Brian to have a private teacher, at least until the spring semester. He had missed over a month of school while homeless and was attempting to get caught back up.

"Pretty good. Miss Lucinda seems pretty happy." He plopped down in the chair next to Matt. "Marty and Pat got the bulls this morning." The boy was fascinated with the workings of the ranch and was excited to be able to learn so much.

"Yeah, I want to go take a look at them when I get finished here." He had almost finished the bowl of chili and Rosa was trying to fill his bowl again but he told her no. After finishing his glass of tea, Matt and CJ, accompanied by Brian, walked down to look at the bulls. Marty was already standing there watching the pair.

"We had a good time with those boys this morning, Houston; you missed out on some fun." The cowboy grinned at his boss. "Pat and I had to separate 'em on the trailer – seems they don't care for the competition."

Matt smiled. "That's good. Maybe they'll be good ones, then." He stood looking at Reaper for a few minutes then walked over to another pasture where Jonas was grazing. Both were good looking bulls and Matt felt fortunate to have found them.

On the way back up to the house, he put his arm around CJ and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I missed you today."

"You did? Well I don't know why you would; you've been around me so much the last four months I figured you were tired of me." She gave him a hug.

"I've got news for you: I'll never get tired of you." He pulled her into a kiss, causing Brian to roll his eyes and head back into the house. "That worked pretty good, gotta remember that." Matt laughed. He and CJ went to sit down on the swing and she brought her knees up under her and leaned over against him while he put his arm around her. "So how's my baby girl doing?"

"Your son is just fine, thanks." She smiled up at him. He sighed and looked out across the pastures. "This is going to be a tough one, isn't it?" CJ knew how to read him like a book. She saw the worry on his face.

"I'm afraid so. Littlebear is right: this guy has been all over the state. He changes his method of murder up in the different cities, but he still leaves the Bibles and fingerprints. Plus he kills the people that he catches rides with…" He stopped for a minute. "You know he doesn't have a car. Goodness knows if he did, it would be easier on him. And he obviously is a drifter; no job means no money means no car. And that also means he is probably staying somewhere cheap." He pulled out his phone and called Michael Littlebear, telling him what had just occurred to him.

"Yeah, I bet you're right. I think we should check on that angle first thing in the morning. Boy am I glad Chuck told me about you."

Matt laughed. "Chuck likes to talk too much. See ya tomorrow." He hung up and hugged CJ closer. Neither one said anything for a few minutes.

"You had talked about getting the cows tomorrow, but you're obviously going to be working on the case. Are you going to let the boys pick them out or are you planning on putting it off a few days?" Matt didn't answer. She looked up and his head was tilted back – and he was asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

Matt awoke to the phone ringing at 4:00 am. "Houston," he muttered sleepily.

"Hey, it's Littlebear. We've got another one."

"Damn. Where is it?" Matt sat up and wrote down the address. "Alright, I'll be there ASAP." He hung up and headed for the closet for some clothes.

CJ had her head propped on her hand, watching him. "Did he hit again?"

"Yeah." He pulled on his jeans and boots and left his denim shirt untucked, then pulled on a baseball cap and kissed CJ goodbye. He stopped at the bedroom door and came back to pull a P30L pistol out of the bedside table. He checked the load, kissed his wife again, and left. CJ watched him go.

Matt pulled up in front of the old warehouse. It was about twelve blocks from the scene of the last murder. As he approached the yellow tape a police officer held up a hand to stop him, while another tapped him on the shoulder. "That's Houston, the PI that Littlebear was telling us about. Come on in, sir." Matt nodded his thanks and went on into the warehouse. He walked up beside Littlebear who was bent over the body while the crime scene techs took photographs. Standing up, the detective looked at Matt. "Sorry to roll you out of bed so early."

"Not a problem, I'm used to it." He knelt down and used a pen to open the Bible on the victim's chest. There was the print again with the upside down cross. "Guess he's not sticking to women this time." Matt stood back up and walked around to the other side of the body. The smell from the man assaulted his nose – he reeked of alcohol. "Looks like he's killing drunks this time. The woman that was found yesterday smelled of alcohol, too."

Littlebear looked at him. "Yeah, you're right. I didn't think of that."

Matt took a picture of the dead man's face with his phone. "We need to check the bars around here – see if anybody recognizes him and remembers him being with anyone last night." Littlebear nodded. Then Matt added, "And we need to do the same for the bars closer to where Patricia Coleman was found."

"The bars might just be the key to this spree he's on now." Littlebear and Houston started back out of the building. Matt looked at his watch: 5:00 am. "Let's go grab some breakfast." The policeman nodded. They met back up at the police station and Littlebear got in Matt's truck. The pair headed to a diner a few blocks away from the station and sat drinking coffee while they waited on their order. Matt's phone rang; he looked at the ID and it was CJ. "Yeah babe."

"Hey, I hope it's not a bad time." She didn't really want to call but Marty and Pat would need to know what to do about the cows.

"No, you're fine; we're sitting here in a diner about to eat some breakfast. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just wondering: do you want the boys to go pick out the cows today or are you going to do that another day?"

"I'd rather do that myself, no offense to them. If something goes wrong it'll be on me, not them." He looked outside. "Looks like we might be getting some rain today anyway. Just tell them we'll do it another day."

"Alright then be careful. I love you."

"Love you too, babe. 'Bye." Matt hung up.

"Did you need to be somewhere else?" Littlebear leaned back in the booth as the waitress brought their orders over.

"No, I'm not on any set schedule." He explained the reason for his visit to Texas and his plans for the cattle.

"Sounds pretty good. You seem to wear a lot of hats." Michael took a sip of coffee and started covering his waffles with maple syrup.

"Not as many as I used to." Matt explained to him about Houston Industries and watched the man's eyes just about bug out.

"You're THAT Houston?!" He couldn't believe the man sitting across from him had given away an empire worth millions.

Matt just grinned. "Just so you know - being a millionaire ain't all it's cracked up to be." He took a bite of his pancakes.

"Hell, I'd try it on for size any day of the week. Damn!" Littlebear shook his head and grinned.

After they finished breakfast, Matt and the police detective headed back to the station. More files had arrived for them to look through: Odessa, Austin, Ft. Worth, Waco, and Dallas. They settled in with more coffee. Matt had his notebook out and was writing as he went through the files. The two men compared notes when they were done.

"Okay in Austin, our guy sliced the throat of his driver, then he poisoned five women in five days, then evidently moved on because that was the end of the murders. Then four days later he was in Waco. The driver there was stabbed in the heart, and seven people were strangled – four men, three women – in seven days. Then in Odessa, he sliced the throat of the driver, and stabbed six men in six days." Matt looked up from his notes at Michael.

"Alright I've got Ft. Worth here: the driver's throat was sliced, then eight people were poisoned – eight days. Dallas – another driver was sliced, and six people – four women, two men – were strangled. Six days on that one, too." They looked at each other.

Matt had written down what Michael had just told him. "When you put all that together you get this:

One, he kills one victim a day, not counting drivers. Two, he seems to use four methods: stabbing, strangling, bludgeoning, and poisoning. Three, out of those five cities we just worked on only one driver was stabbed." He thought for a minute. "If you needed to kill somebody quickly and without making them suffer too much, what would you do?"

Littlebear sat back. "Personally I would shoot 'em. But this guy doesn't seem to use a gun. So…slice their throats?"

Matt nodded. "The people who had their throats slit were drivers, except for one in that list. Maybe he liked them – except for that one." They thought it over. "How long ago did the murders start here, that you know of?"

"The first one that I know about personally was three years ago in San Antonio. But the cases in Waco were about three weeks before that…"

Matt got up and walked over to the window. "We forgot about Lubbock. The driver was strangled. But other than that, it's still one a day, and most drivers are sliced."

Littlebear ran his hand over his face and sighed. "Okay, so on the list for today is check out the bars in the vicinity of the two murders, and check N-DEx to see about the MO's."

Matt plopped down at the desk that he had been using. The two looked at each other.

"Alright I'll get started on N-DEx." Michael settled in behind his keyboard and started typing.

"I'll make a coffee run." Matt went and filled up two cups with coffee and came back. As he set the cop's cup on his desk, Littlebear let out a whoop.

"Here we go, Houston. He's been in Arkansas, Illinois, Indiana, Missouri, Ohio, and Oklahoma. And…," he read a little further, "it started in Ohio – about three and a half years ago."

"What do they have about the Ohio cases?" Matt pulled a chair around to Littlebear's desk and sat down.

The detective clicked a few more keys. "Okay the first known victim with the Bible – but there was no fingerprint – was Angelina Marcus, age 16, in Finlay, Ohio. She was stabbed." They sat there and thought for a minute.

"Okay, so when and where was the first victim with both the Bible and fingerprint?" Matt felt like they were right on the edge of figuring this guy out.

"Richmond, Indiana. About three weeks later." He looked at Matt.

"Pull up a map of Ohio and Indiana." He leaned forward and looked at the screen, then pointed. "Richmond is almost at the Ohio state line. Pull up a US map." Littlebear did. "Bingo. Look, he started in Ohio, then went to Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and then Texas." They looked at each other.

Littlebear looked at the dates of the murders and then at the map. "He bounced back and forth between Texas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas for a while. Look." He showed the information to Matt.

"Yep, that's exactly what he's done." He sat back in the chair. "Now we know what he's done before, but we don't know what he's going to do – other than strangle a drunk a day for however many days he feels it's necessary."


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

The rain started coming down, lightly at first. Then there was an extremely loud rumble of thunder that seemed to shake it loose and it poured down in sheets, being blown about by the strong, humid winds that felt so thick they reminded Thad of a blanket being held over his face. He was standing under a picnic shelter at the park watching the storm. No longer was he afraid of storms, like he had been as a child. That was one thing that Mother had made sure of: storms were sent from God; they were a part of him. She had made him stand outside and endure storms until he wasn't afraid of them anymore. Thad welcomed them now. That was part of the reason he had spent so much time in Texas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas. So that he could be a part of them.

Tonight would be another good night to kill. He had already found another bar to go to, and was looking forward to it. It was another seedy place, sure to be filled with drunks of the lowest order. His public service of the night before had made the news and Thad laughed as the news cameras had caught shots of the police detective and the private eye as they hunkered down over the body. The drifter really couldn't understand why they were wasting their energy on trying to find him; the drunks were nobodies, worthless pieces of trash floating around on the face of the earth in an ocean of alcohol. It occurred to him that he should have poisoned them with wood grain alcohol, a much more fitting end than strangling. Maybe the next time he killed drunks he would use that method.

As he stood there thinking and watching the storm, lightning hit a tree about five hundred feet away from him. He could smell the wood where the bolt had burnt it. The top two-thirds of it crashed to the ground, causing him to laugh out loud. It was absolutely beautiful.

A little while later, the rain slacked up some and Thad headed off toward the bar that was running a special tonight – fifty cent draft beer. That should really make his job easier.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Matt and Michael made a list of all of the bars within a twenty block area of the two crime scenes and were going to interview bartenders and other employees. They had been able to borrow four other detectives after talking to the commander, and had split the list up between the three teams of two. Matt and Michael were handling ten of them.

As they rode from the third bar that they had checked out to the fourth, Matt blew out a deep breath. "I never realized there were so many bars here. Good thing we've got some help." Littlebear nodded his head.

When they went into the fourth bar, they struck pay dirt. One of the waitresses remembered seeing Patricia Coleman on the night she was murdered. "I told my boyfriend I thought that was a woman that had been in here and now that I see this I'm sure of it." She took a drag of her cigarette. "She was complaining about being kicked out of her apartment." She took another drag. "And you've heard the expression "drink like a fish"? She had any fish I've ever seen beat." She rolled her eyes.

Matt held up the picture of the hitch hiker. "Did you happen to see this guy, too?"

The woman's eyes almost popped out of her head. "Yeah! He left here with her. Told her he had a bottle of tequila at his place. I just figured he told her that to get lucky, ya know?" She looked at the picture again. "Wait a minute! That's the dude from the truck stop murder ain't it?!" Matt nodded and took down her information and gave her one of his cards, as did Michael.

On their way to the fifth bar, the pair was feeling a little more confident about the case. When they got to it, they were in luck again. The bartender remembered the man, whose name was Alex Trauber. "Yeah, that's the idiot I threw out last night – in here orderin' drinks without money to pay for 'em. Lousy sot! Why what'd he do – rob a liquor store?" When Littlebear told him he dropped the glass he was wiping out. "No kiddin'? That's the dude that got strangled in the warehouse? Damn!"

Matt had pulled his laptop out of his truck before they took off and once he was back inside Littlebear's SUV he turned it on and looked to see what hotels were in the area. Then it occurred to him that their suspect was on a budget so he checked to see if there were any hostels. "Got it!" He turned the laptop so the police detective could see. "There's a hostel four blocks from here – and two blocks from the other bar. I'll bet that's where he's staying." They headed that way.

Once they arrived, Matt and Michael found the manager and showed her the picture of the suspect. "Oh yes! That's Thad. What is his last name?" She hit keys on her computer. "Here he is. Thad Trail. Kind of a funny name, huh?" She smiled at the two men.

"Ma'am, do you know if he's here right now?" Littlebear looked around to see if anyone else had heard the conversation.

"No, he left a little earlier. I was worried when he started to leave because a storm was about to roll in, but he said he loved to watch them."

"Would you mind if we looked in his room?" Matt thought it couldn't hurt to ask. Little bear shook his head no.

"We need a warrant." He looked at Matt and could see the wheels turning.

"Ma'am, I'm a little tired. You wouldn't have anything available would you?" He looked at Michael who was trying not to look too surprised.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I just need you to sign here," she passed a register to him, "and that will be $25."

Matt pulled out his wallet and gave her a $100 bill. "Keep the change." He took the key to the locker and headed up the stairs, turning to look at Littlebear. "I'll catch up with you in a little bit."

The detective turned and walked back out to his truck and kept an eye out for the man in the picture while he waited. Chuck had told him that Houston didn't always play by the rules. There had been many times over the years that Michael had wished that he didn't have to, and ordinarily he would have objected. But if they didn't catch this guy, it was guaranteed that other people would die. Ten minutes later Matt came back down and tossed the key to the manager, walked out the door and hopped into the SUV with Littlebear.

"It's him, I'm sure of it. I found a knife with blood on it."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, a bunch of these." Matt pulled a New Testament Bible out of his pocket. "I didn't figure he would miss one." He checked the publisher's name and it was the same as all of the others that had been found. "Evidently he buys in bulk. I found an invoice for them."

"I'm going to guess that I don't want to know how you found out." Littlebear pulled out his cell phone to call the other teams.

"Probably not. Lt. Hoyt in LA usually prefers not to know." Matt grinned and chuckled.

"I'm going to get one of the other teams to sit on this place and watch for him. We and the other team will go around to the rest of the bars and ask the employees to be on the lookout for this guy."

As he pulled away from the curb, Matt looked at the list of the bars that they had left. The nearest one was three blocks away. He pointed to the address and Littlebear nodded as he told the other detectives what he needed. A couple of minutes later they pulled up across the street from it and Matt looked at a sign in the front window: "Tonight Only! Draft Beer 50 Cents!" Littlebear got off of the phone and Matt pointed to the sign. "This has got to be it – the cheapest and easiest place to get drunk."

The cop looked at the sign in amazement. "I believe you're right. Let's go take a look." They got out of the SUV and crossed the street. Matt went in first and they stood near the door to let their eyes adjust to the semi-darkness. As they started forward, Matt caught a glance at a guy at the far end of the bar. When they were fifteen feet from him, he slid off of the stool and started walking toward the back. Matt looked at Michael and jerked his head in the direction of the guy. The cop nodded. They picked up their pace and closed in on him just as he reached the men's room door.

"Hey buddy, you got change for a dollar?" Matt asked him as he started through the door.

Without turning around he muttered, "No, sure don't, man."

Matt grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. It was their guy. He reached up and punched Matt, then headed into the restroom at a run. Matt recovered and he and Littlebear piled through the door and caught the man by the legs as he started to climb out the window, pulling him down onto the floor. He squirmed around and got his left hand in his front pocket and pulled out the rope, then tried to put it around Matt's neck.

Ducking the rope, Houston hit the man with a right jab three times, knocking him senseless. Littlebear rolled him face down and cuffed him.

Later on, after making it back to the police station, Matt called CJ to let her know what was going on. "Wow! You guys caught up to him pretty fast. Not bad for an old man." She giggled.

"I'll show you an old man when I get home. How's my baby girl doing?"

"Your little boy is just fine, Matt, and so am I. When do you think you'll be home?"

"I'm not sure. Michael wants me to stay for the interrogation. I gotta tell you, after the mess I heard come out of his mouth earlier I'm inclined to think this fella is going to qualify for the insanity defense – really."

"No doubt about it, huh?" She knew if Matt believed he was really crazy then he most likely was.

"Yep. Nuttier than a squirrel fart." He knew she would love that one.

"Where in the world did you get that from?" She burst into laughter.

"Don't laugh too hard, babe, you might pop that kid out too early." He was laughing himself and was drawing stares from the detectives in the squad room. "I'll call you before I leave. Love you."

"Love you, too, sweetie. 'Bye." She hung up the phone and went back to the book that she was reading that contained over three thousand names – she needed one that would sound good with William.

The interrogation was one of the crazier ones that Matt had ever sat in on. They were still unable to get the man's name from him. He did let them know that Thad Trail was not his real name, but stopped right there. As for why he had killed so many people, he looked at Littlebear and Matt like they had lost their minds.

"I would think it was rather obvious."

"Well, I guess we're not very smart, so why don't you just spell it out for us." Littlebear looked at Matt who rolled his eyes.

"They were lowlifes – well, most of them were. The only ones who weren't were some of the drivers. There were only three of them that I didn't like so I took it easy on 'em."

Matt leaned back and put his feet on the table. "You mean by cutting their throats?"

"Yeah."

"And the other drivers that got killed in other ways – you didn't like them for some reason?" He glanced at Littlebear.

"Exactly! See it makes sense to you, too!" Thad leaned back and looked satisfied.

"Well I wouldn't go so far as to say that." Matt took a sip of coffee. "So do you know how many folks that you've killed?"

"Oh, sure. There have been eighty nine." He was really proud of himself. "That's a lot of public service, don't you think?"

Houston stared at the man for a minute then pulled out his notebook and started counting. "Are you sure it was eighty nine? I'm counting eighty eight."

"Including my dear, sweet, sainted mother there are eighty nine. She was the first you know. I got beaten by that studded belt just one too many times. And then I had to kill Angelina – that last beating from Mother was all her fault. She smiled at me – so pretty, so sweetly – and I asked her out on a date. I was so excited! And then when I told Mother, oh boy! That was when she beat me! She said that I was nothing but a child of Satan. You know she always said that? Ever since I could remember she called me that."

Littlebear was speechless for a minute, then asked, "What about your father? Did he beat you, too?"

"Oh no, I never knew my father. That's why Mother called me a child of Satan. She and my father had sinned, you see. They weren't married." It was all said so matter-of-factly that Matt sat in stunned silence for a minute.

There was a knock on the door and an officer opened it to let Littlebear know that the public defender had just arrived. She came breezing past the officer. "I need to speak to my client – alone if you don't mind, Detective."

Littlebear and Matt headed for the door, with Littlebear mumbling under his breath, "Gladly."


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

The next morning dawned cool and clear. Today was the day that Matt had been looking forward to for the last few weeks. They would be getting the cattle in today. He had rented a couple of tractor trailers to haul them to the ranch. After going through the available cows, Matt had picked out the ones that he wanted. They were then loaded onto the trailers and delivered.

Brian was so excited he looked like a kid at Christmas. He was getting the day off from school work in order to be able to help.

Matt was going to put the cows out by themselves, then put the bull in with them. He figured that if everything went as planned, he would have a fall calving the next year. The other bull would be introduced to the second herd the next summer for a spring herd the following year.

After teaching Brian the basics of herding, the men began unloading the cattle and moving to the pasture that had been chosen for them. Brian did exactly what Matt and the other cowboys told him and the herds were moved in a matter of minutes. The teen couldn't believe that it was done that quickly.

"Okay, now we can be lazy." Matt got down off of his horse and walked it toward the barn. Brian looked disappointed. He knew this would probably be the only time that he ever got to herd cows. As he followed Matt to the barn the older man saw his disappointment. "What's the matter?" He stopped and looked at the boy.

"I don't know – I thought it would take longer than that."

"No, not that part. But now when we go to load some of 'em up for sale - that could take a little longer." Matt began to loosen the saddle on his horse. "You are gonna come help us with that part, aren't you?"

Brian's face lit up. "You mean you'll let me come back?"

"Yeah, I'd be stupid not to – you did a good job." He grinned at the boy. "Look, you're welcome to come here anytime you want to – but CJ and I won't always be here. We'll be going back to California." He lifted the saddle off of the horse and took it back to the tack room. Brian followed with his saddle. "But we'll be here on occasion." They put the saddles in the room and headed back to the horses.

"I'm going to miss you, both of you, when I go back home." Brian looked up at Matt.

"Well I don't know why you would. You know how to use a phone and a computer, right?" He patted the boy on the back. "Look Brian, anytime you need us we'll be here for you, okay?"

The boy nodded. Matt clapped him on the back and they walked the horses back out to the paddock and turned them loose. CJ walked over and stood between the two of them, putting an arm around each one.


End file.
